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not have been born a defender, but she had the heart of one.
    “No, we can’t, love,” Artu replied as Marti knew he would. He might not know what it was like, but her brother certainly knew right from wrong and slavery was always wrong. “We must do something to help the women on that world.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “The only question is what do we do to save them?”

Chapter Ten
     
     
    Artu’s words haunted Marti as she sat on the comfortable bed in the huge room that Kylar had provided for her.
    She looked around her, noting that the space was much larger than the cell she had shared with so many others on Katkari. The room was so big, she wasn’t certain she would be able to sleep here by herself.
    Reaching up, she pulled the towel from her hair and rubbed it. It felt good to be clean again. It was always good to be able to bathe with the knowledge that there was no agenda for cleanliness other than comfort.
    On Katkari, bathing was a gift, a privilege given to those who have either served their masters well, or for those slated to be the night’s sexual entertainment. After five years of avoiding soap and water, being clean felt wonderful. She gazed toward the bathroom, wondering just how long it would take for the hot water to replenish.
    Marti knew that she had the tendency to be obsessive on occasion, but she didn’t think another shower would be excessive. Would it?
    Don’t be silly, girl. You’ve just escaped imprisonment. No one would blame you for wanting to scrub that horrible experience from your life. The strange voice in Marti’s head seemed almost tender, motherly even.
    “What do you know about it?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking the question, though she was relatively certain that she knew the answer.
    I am Verdandi, Norn of the present. I have watched you over the years and I am pleased at how you accept your fate. You are not one to complain or rail at us about how unfair you think your lot in life. That is one of the reasons we have decided to help you.
    Help me? Marti frowned. Where were they when I sacrificed my virtue and self-respect to make my escape last night?
    The memory of what she had done, the price she paid for her freedom, made her skin crawl.
    That was your choice, Marteeka. My sisters and I merely weave the threads of fate. You are the one who decides which threads to grasp. She paused for a moment as though waiting for her words to sink in. Life always gives you multiple choices. Each choice has a different outcome. You could have easily chosen to stay and marry the prince, or escape with the help of another slave, to hide until you could convince a visitor to take you with them when they left. There were, and always will be, endless choices. The avenue of the escape you chose reflects upon you as an individual.
    “It reflects on me?” Marteeka thinned her lips. “In other words, I’m a slut and took the easy way out by bartering with my body.”
    A lump formed in her throat as tears filled her eyes. What would Kylar think of her if he knew what she had done to escape? She dashed away the tears with the back of her hand. Why should she give a damn what he thought?
    You care what he thinks because your heart and body recognize him as your soul mate. Besides, you did not do what you did because it is easy. Parting with your hard held virtue was not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength. You did what you thought you must, because you knew the faster you left, the faster you could bring help to the others. Your thoughts were always of them, not of the ease of your escape. Kylar would never hold that against you.
    Marti thought about Kyl for a moment, missing his warmth and addicting scent. Could Verdandi be right?
    Of course I’m right, you silly girl. I’m a demi-god. I am one of the weavers of your fate. I weave your present and what I see is you searching out Kylar and allowing him to help you forget your night with the guard. Even